Playing
by hochmodel
Summary: Felix liked to play the piano, but don't tell anyone. It's for his ears, only.


**I do not own anything. No one can sue me now. Muahahahahaaha! This fic will give you diabetes. I read it and asked myself why there weren't any gory, dramatic, or sexually humorous scenes like I usually do...**

Felix loved to play the piano.

He took lessons as a little boy, and, when his father had time for him, he taught Junior various songs. His sister loved to hear him play. She would brag about him and invite her friends over to listen. Quite a few got crushes on the small musician.

He was very humble about his talent. He knew he was no Mozart or Beethoven. He kept it quiet. No one in Litwack's arcade knew. Not Ralph, Vanellope, or even Calhoun (she had insisted on keeping her last name when they got married, despite his protests).

He would wait until the penthouse was clear (not something that happened very often) and would play to his little heart's content on the only piano in Niceland, the one located in the lobby. He laughed and sang, sometimes doing beautiful covers, other times composing originals. He "wrote" many songs he never planned on sharing, many of them dedicated to his beautiful wife.

Why he never told anyone about his talent never really crossed his mind. Part of it was humility- he didn't want to brag about a skill that he had. Another part of it was that he felt like it was his own little secret, and something for him to enjoy, alone. Like how some people love to sing, but refuse to in front of crowds. Part of it was that he was shy. He didn't want his friends asking him to play all the time.

Yet, there was a part of him that did want to play in front of his friends. It would just be nice if he didn't attract too much attention, like he would if he played in the lobby.

As of late, it was getting easier to sneak in some playing. For two weeks, Calhoun said that she would be back very late do to training some of the "pussy-willows", or weaker soldiers. Usually, he would have gone over to Ralph's, but Ralph always said he needed to help Vanellope with something. When Felix offered to come along, he said it was top secret. When he approached the Nicelanders, none of them were in the building.

He was suspicious, but if they wanted him to know, they'd tell him.

A little lonely, he got creative with his piano and his voice. He crafted multiple pieces in his head, some friendship songs, some just instrumental, most love songs. For two weeks, he spent much of his time alone. While he loved company and enjoyed people, he did like having some time to himself.

On the day of his birthday, when he got home, no one was there.

"Well," he frowned, taking off his gloves. "I know they're busy and all, but you'd think-" He didn't have time to finish that thought. Hands covered his eyes and mouth. One pair tied up his arms and legs, the other blindfolded and gagged him.

Struggling, he was thrown into a sack and carried away.

The scared little handyman protested and moved, trying to undo his bonds, but they were too tight.

Shortly after the kidnapping, he was thrown to the ground. Letting a grunt get out of his gag, he continued to struggle. He fell out of the bag and his captors started to untie him when he heard his wife's angry voice. "I said to retrieve him, you idiots. Not give him a heart attack!"

Frozen with confusion, the hands untied him until he was completely free and saw what he thought was one of the grandest sights in his life.

Vanellope's castle had a large blue banner hanging in the front, with the words "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HAMMER MAN!" in yellow. The ballroom was filled with an assortment of pies and all kinds of other sugar and candies. All of the Nicelanders, some other friends from various games, and his small family made up of three, stood in front of him, arms extended and shouting "Surprise!"

They had even dressed up a little, with many of the Nicelanders dressed in anniversary outfits and Calhoun in a snug blue top and black slacks.

"This is so..." Felix said, beaming at all of them. "Sweet! Pun intended..."

Calhoun chucked and hugged him. "Happy birthday, short-stack."

"Just wait till you see your gift!" Vanellope excitedly said.

"What in creation could be better than this?" Felix laughed.

Ralph moved and gestured to a small piano, built for him. "Maybe your own piano?"

"But...how did..." Felix said, confused.

"You weren't alone all those times you thought you were," Calhoun explained. She held up a slightly scratched hand. "They're not magic hammers, but they'll get the job done."

"Come on. Play," Gene said, smiling and gesturing him to go to the present

"I don't know," Felix nervously stated, looking at the ground and fidgeting with his hammer. "I'm not that good of a player."

"Fix-it, I did not spend two weeks making a piano by hand for you to not play," Calhoun said, crossing her arms.

He laughed and sat on the stool, filling the halls with music as everyone danced.

It was one of the best birthday celebrations he could remember.

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She had found out about the piano by leaving one day for training, only to slip back because she forgot something. She very rarely forgot anything, but she had a lot on her mind and she missed her revolver on the bedside table.

She opened the door and there her husband was, playing the keys and happily humming to an original tune.

She thought it was a bit odd that he never told her, but decided to sneak around the bar and listen.

Mod, he was good.

She completely forgot about training. She was captured by his talent and creativity as he played the instrument and sang.

She heard a few love songs sung somewhere in the melody. One was his favorite on their wedding day.

She was, to be honest, a bit hurt that he never said anything.

She was about to jump out and catch him red-handed when Gene walked in the door. Flustered, Felix leaped off of the stool and shifted his weight, pretending nothing had happened.

She thought that it was odd that he never wanted anyone to know.

His birthday was coming up. She decided she was going to get him a piano if it was the last thing she did.

FTFTFTFTFTFTFFTFTFTFTFTFFTFT FTFFTFTFTFTFTFFTFTFTFTTFTFTF TFFTTF

Calhoun loved to sing.

It was a practice that had always soothed her whenever her family plunged into violence. She associated song with comfort and peace, something that was never available to her when she was a child.

Asking her to sing was like asking her to have a Cybug chew up Felix; you'd get punched just for having the thought in your head.

Yet, whenever she was alone, she'd hum or sing a song.

Some were songs from her wedding day; sickening love songs she swore to never listen to, again. Others were dark, dreary, somber songs that would bring most to tears.

Recently, she began to sing the songs Felix wrote for her.

She never planned on telling anyone. Her men would lose respect. No doubt Ralph and Vanellope would harass her. Felix would probably enjoy it, but it wouldn't feel right.

Her singing was meant for her ears, only. It was an exercise to calm her; to soothe her; to remember the times in the past when life wasn't stabbing her in the back. It was something special to her that she felt she could only know and experience because how could anyone else know what it's like to soothe themselves with song? Performing would cheapen it. In her mind, anyway.

"You know, Tammy, you have a beautiful voice," Felix told her, smiling.

She frowned at him, putting the laundry basket down. "How did you know I liked to sing?"

"The same way you knew about me and the piano: accidentally walked in, and has been entranced ever since," he explained.

"Um, thanks." A bit unsettled, she took the laundry basket in her arms and began walking.

"It's nine o'clock on a Saturday..." he quietly sang. She turned around, shocked, to see Felix nervously looking at her, his hands folded behind his back. When she didn't respond, he went to his piano and started playing. "The regular crowd shuffles in. There's an old man, sitting next to me, making love to his tonic and gin."

He continued playing, encouraging her to join him. She still watched him, her laundry in her hands.

"He says 'Son can you play me a memory?" Felix continued. "I'm not really sure how it goes. But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete, when I wore a younger man's clothes.'"

She gently put down the basket and joined him by the piano, still silent.

"La la la di di da, la la di di da-a-a," Felix sang.

"Sing us a song, you're the piano man," she softly jumped in. "Sing us a song, tonight. Well we're all in the mood for a melody, and you've got us feeling alright."

He grinned at her and looked back at the piano, continuing to play. "Now John at the bar is a friend of mine. He gets me my drinks for free," they sang together.

From that day forward, music filled their little house.


End file.
